Her tone was full of affection, though, and Martin poked her shoulder. "I can hear you."
"No point if you couldn't." She winked at me and I giggled.
Loren came in. "Thanks, Penny. Seven tomorrow morning, right?"
"You got it, cute stuff," she said, and winked at me again.
Loren rolled his eyes. "Get your glasses checked. See you tomorrow."
Penny gave Martin a hug goodbye, which touched me, then headed out leaving him standing looking vague on the last step from upstairs.
"Come on down, Dad. This is Andrea."
Martin's eyes sharpened. "I know that. I'm not an idiot."
Loren blinked, and I felt a rush of happiness that his dad was clear at the moment. It faded fast, though, when Martin added, "You grew up with her, for heaven's sake. We've known her forever."
While I did feel like I'd known Loren a lot longer than just a few months, I knew Martin wasn't speaking metaphorically.
Loren smiled at him and ushered him into the kitchen to sit at the table and await the pizza, but paused as they passed and murmured to me, "He's thinking of our old neighbor Annette. Sorry."
"It's okay," I whispered, but I couldn't tell if he heard me.
The pizza arrived, and we ate and listened to Martin's rambling stories about people he might have known and might have made up, and my admiration for Loren grew even higher as I watched him care for his dad.
He was a special man. I'd have been lucky to have him. If I'd been ready to take him when I had the chance.
*****
After dinner, Loren made popcorn for Martin and settled him in front of the TV then we left the dishes in the kitchen at Loren's insistence and got to work, mostly in silence. We'd had such deep and amazing conversations in the past but now Alex stood between us as surely as if he'd actually been present, and I had no idea what to say that wasn't about work. Loren didn't either, apparently, so we slaved away until our silence was broken by a loud snore.
We smiled at each other, and Loren said, "We've been at it close to two hours. Take a break and I'll get him upstairs to bed."
"Why don't I hit Starbucks? It's not a long walk from here."
"Good call. I could use a coffee." He dug in his pocket and held out his keys. "Take my car, though."
"Oh, no, it's okay. I can walk."
"Of course you can. But it's dark. And a little cold. I'd feel better if you didn't."
When I'd left my apartment that morning, I'd told Alex I'd be home sometime after midnight, which had led to the 'spending the night with Loren' garbage. I'd taken the subway to work as I always did since I hated trying to park in downtown Toronto, so he knew I wouldn't be able to drive myself home. My boyfriend had no idea how I'd be getting home, hadn't bothered to ask.
Loren would have asked.
He still held the keys, and I reached out and took them. "I'll be careful."
He laughed. "It's got enough dents in it that a few more wouldn't matter. When you come back just let yourself in, okay? The doorbell might wake Dad."
I nodded, and he told me what to get him, and off I went.
I'd never thought before about how personal someone's car could be, but being in Loren's without him felt oddly intimate. His sunglasses lying on the passenger seat. The case from an audio book about caring for Alzheimer's patients next to them. An envelope, clearly his pay stub, on the floor. The car even smelled like him, warm and sexy.
I shut my eyes and let myself imagine being with Loren instead of Alex. My shoulders sank at once, releasing tension I hadn't even known I felt. Tears stung the backs of my eyes and I opened them. Why torture myself? Yeah, Alex and I were struggling but that wasn't a surprise. We were trying to figure out how to be adults together, and we'd get it worked out. Somehow. Adult relationships were hard work. Everyone said so.
I started the car and turned off Loren's audio book so he wouldn't miss anything, then pulled cautiously onto the road, returning about twenty minutes later with our drinks and a cookie each for extra energy.
Reaching for his front door without knocking felt even more intimate than being in his car, but nothing compared to the door moving before I could touch it and the sight of him pulling the door open for me. He'd been waiting for me, listening for me to walk up the steps. At first I couldn't believe it, but he said, "Come on in. I didn't want you to have to struggle with the drinks and the door."
I looked into his eyes and knew, right to the tips of my teal-painted toenails, that I'd made the wrong decision. The knowledge hit me like a slap from a giant. If I wasn't ready for a relationship with someone as caring as this man, I wasn't ready for one at all. I should have stayed on my own until I knew better who I was and what I wanted.
I'd never learn that with Alex. Not even in another fourteen years. He didn't want me to change. And I did. I had changed, and I loved who I was becoming. And if Alex didn't love that too, then he didn't love me. The new me. The real me.
Loren took the drink tray from my hands while I stood staring at him, then raised his eyebrows. "You okay?"
I nodded, not sure I could talk with stunned horror still rippling through me. Wrong reversal. So wrong. Now what? I took a deep breath and managed to whisper, "Thought I should be quiet."
He chuckled. "He's sound asleep. I'll check on him every so often but for now he's out."
I followed him back to the dining room and we got back to work. I pushed my epiphany out of my mind, since I couldn't deal with it now, and we sat together in the brightly lit dining room with the rest of the house dark and I felt like we were the only people on the planet and I loved it.
When we'd finished a major section of the project, he slipped upstairs to check on his dad and I decided to tidy up from dinner.
"Didn't I say not to do that?"
I jumped and turned to face him. "It's the least I can do."
He came forward. "The least you can do is nothing, and that's all you have to do. Other than work, of course."
I rolled my eyes dramatically. "I'd rather clean the kitchen."
He smiled. "Ditto. Want to take a quick cleaning break?"
"Your definition of 'break' and mine aren't the same, but sure."
We worked companionably, side by side, getting his kitchen spotless. When we'd finished, I turned to him to ask if he needed anything else cleaned up but froze at the pain in his eyes. "What?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. The usual."
"What's the usual?"
He sighed. "Dad woke up enough to ask when Mom was coming home."
I made a sympathetic sound. "Does that happen often?"
"Occasionally. He won't remember it tomorrow, but..."
"But you will."
He nodded. "I tell him she's away and she'll be back soon. I hate lying to him, but I can't break his heart every time he asks."
My own heart nearly breaking, I said, "I'm so sorry."
We looked into each other's eyes without speaking, then both moved forward at once.
I slid my arms around his waist and he took my face in both hands.
The shock of his skin against mine sent glorious heat through me, and I moved closer to him.
He bent his head.
I raised my face.
Then, unbearably, he released me and pulled out of my arms. "I can't. We can't."
Just from his touch and the intensity between us I was aching for him as if we'd been locked in each other's embrace for hours. But how could I argue that kissing him while I was with Alex was anything but wrong? "I know."
We stood looking at each other, then he said, "I don't think I can resist you much longer. And I have to. I've never been a cheater and I don't want to start. So I think we should call it a night. Is it okay if I call a taxi? I'd drive you home but I don't like leaving Dad."
I wanted to kiss the misery right off his face, but I didn't want to be a cheater either. We were on the brink of something neither of us wanted to do, not like this anyhow, and I needed to ge
t out before we gave in. "A taxi's fine. And you're right, I should go. At least we got a lot done tonight."
His smile was wry. "Dana will be thrilled."
He called the taxi company, then came back to me and said, "It'll be ten minutes."
I nodded, then couldn't bear it any more. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.
He tensed, and I said, "Just this. Nothing else." I needed it, and I knew he did too.
He held out another moment then pulled me close and pressed his cheek to the top of my head. I shut my eyes, relaxing into him, and we stood together, not moving or speaking, just drawing warmth and comfort from each other, until a knock at the door startled us apart.
"I'll see you at work tomorrow?"
The roughness of his voice made me shiver, and I could barely say, "Of course."
He escorted me to the door, then stood on the front steps while I headed toward the taxi. Halfway to the road, though, I looked over my shoulder, wanting to see if he was still there, still watching me.
He was, standing beneath the porch light, his face solemn and those gorgeous eyes sad.
When our eyes met I turned around and went back to him without meaning to, as if he were pulling me in. By the time I reached him he'd opened his arms to me and I fell into them.
We squeezed each other tight, but far too soon he set me away again. "Good night."
"I'm sorry."
I hadn't meant to say that, but I was sorry. Sorry for so many things.
He brushed his fingers over my cheek, setting my skin on fire. "I know. Me too. Good night."
"Good night," I whispered, and managed to get all the way down the walkway and into the taxi.
I craned my neck to watch, and Loren stayed on the steps until I was out of sight.
"That your boyfriend? Not going to see him for a while, I guess?"
I faced forward again and let my head fall back against the car's headrest. "Yeah. Yes, to both."
So much easier than explaining the truth.
Life would be so much easier if he were my boyfriend.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I spent more time with Loren than with Alex over the next few days. The tightened deadline for our project made that necessary, but I didn't mind it at all. Being with him felt good.
He'd sent me a text message ten minutes after I left his house in the taxi, knowing my trip would take about twenty minutes, asking me to let him know when I'd made it home safely.
I did send that message once I'd settled on the couch with a blanket and Harrison to keep me warm, thanking him for his concern and wishing him a good sleep in what little of the night was left, but I didn't bother telling him that Alex had been snoring away in the middle of the bed when I returned. My boyfriend obviously wasn't concerned about my safety, and he hadn't even left me a note to welcome me home. Nor, the next day, did I mention that Alex had simply said, "You should have moved me," when I said I'd had to sleep on the couch.
I had two lives now, the open and friendly one I could share with Loren and my other new friends and the old reliable one I'd had with Alex, and they didn't mix. I didn't want them to mix.
I thought a lot about my fervent hopes, right after Alex left me, that I'd get him back and everything would go right back to how it had been. Oh, be careful what you wish for. I had him back and I had never been so bored or frustrated.
I'd thought the rut was gone forever, but it had apparently just been lying in wait for me because now I was sinking back into it and I couldn't imagine how I'd ever found it remotely comfortable. But I'd taken him back, and there was still hope that we could make it work. Somehow.
My realization at Loren's that I truly wasn't ready for a relationship nagged at me, but I didn't know what to do with it, or even if it was true. Alex and I got along sometimes, so maybe I was more ready for a relationship than I thought. Besides, I couldn't just dump him. I'd need a concrete reason, need something to justify my decision, and I couldn't find anything specific. Just my poor constantly upset stomach, and that was hardly a good enough reason to break up with the guy.
Work was my only salvation, because I got to be with Loren and because the huge pressure we were under kept me from thinking about Alex and also from thinking about Tina, about to head off on the conference that should have been mine.
Two days after the conference started, three days before she should have been home, Tina called me on my cell in the middle of the day. I almost didn't answer the phone, but curiosity compelled me. I wasn't friendly, though. "Yes?"
She sniffled. "I need help."
To my annoyance, I felt bad for her, but tried to hide it. "Why?"
"You have to tell them it's just how it goes there."
"What is?"
Through her repeated sniffles and one bout of sobbing, I listened with increasing amazement to the story of the person Anna and Gary had deemed more reliable than me.
Tina, drunk at a party the first night of the conference, had left with an executive from a survey company and spent the rest of the evening in bed with him. While thoroughly inappropriate, this might not have been so disastrous if the executive hadn't been the husband of one of the conference organizers, who was clearly told about Tina's little tryst because the next day she stormed into a session attended by a thousand people to call her out.
Cornered, Tina fought back, and actually blamed the organizer for her husband's bad behavior, saying if she hadn't been so bitchy while preparing for the conference he'd never have slept with Tina. True or not, the wife didn't appreciate this, and from the sounds of it Tina barely escaped the hotel before the woman tore her to shreds with her bare hands.
Tina had underestimated Anna and Gary's connections in the industry: her plan to stay in Atlanta for a few days of vacation and then come back as if nothing had happened was thwarted by the many people who emailed my former bosses to tell them they'd never hire DataSource now that the company was represented by someone with such poor judgment. Anna called her within hours to tell her she was no longer employed and any bills at the hotel were hers alone.
When this pathetic tale was finished, I sat silent, wondering what on earth Tina thought I would, or even could, do about it.
"Well?"
"Well what, Tina?"
"I need help. I need my job back."
No doubt. "In case you've forgotten, Anna and Gary don't exactly love me at the moment. In fact, they think I'm insane for some reason. Why do you think they'd listen to me, even if I did try to talk to them? Which I'm not going to do."
"I just had sex with a guy! It was no big deal."
I shook my head. "I'm not even going to get into how many ways that statement is wrong. And I'm not going to help you. You made this mess yourself, so fix it yourself."
She launched into a long weepy diatribe about how devastated she was and how I should help, and I sat drumming my fingers on the desk trying to figure out how to get off the phone.
"Andrea?"
I looked up to see Loren, wearing the chocolate brown shirt we'd bought for him. It should be illegal to look that cute at work.
He held up his hands and took a step backward. "Sorry, didn't know you were on--"
I rolled my eyes and said into the phone, "Tina."
She didn't even hear me. Of course, she'd never really heard me, because she'd never cared enough to listen. Realizing that gave me strength to stop listening to her. "Tina! I'm hanging up now."
"But I need your help!"
My eyes met Loren's, and I couldn't resist saying, "Tina, you slept with a conference organizer's husband and got kicked out and then got fired. How exactly am I supposed to help?"
Loren burst out laughing then clapped his hand over his mouth, and I grinned at him.
"You could talk to Anna for me. You could--"
My amusement faded. "You know what? I'm not doing anything. Forget it. You made a stupid move and it bit you in the ass. That's how it goes. Fix it yourself, and don't c
all me again."
"Selfish bitch." She hissed it so hard I wasn't at first sure I'd heard, but she repeated it to make sure it got through. "You selfish bitch. I can't believe you won't help me. You owe me."
A million responses flashed through my head and for a second I couldn't speak.
Loren frowned, obviously wondering what Tina was saying to me.
I cleared my throat. "How do I owe you, exactly?"
His eyes widened and I raised my eyebrows at him to express my own shock.
Tina apparently didn't know how I owed her because she fell back on the all-time best way to make a woman do what you want. "Don't be so selfish. I need help so you should help me."
Was I being selfish? I didn't want to be. I let our history flash through my mind and I knew. "Tina, I don't owe you a thing. Don't call me again."
I hung up while she was still screaming at me.
Loren shook his head. "Unbelievable."
I nodded. "She thinks I'm selfish. She honestly believes I should call my old bosses--"
"--at the job she made you leave--"
"Yeah. Call them and tell them it's okay that everyone knows DataSource is now represented by an idiot with no impulse control. How exactly do I word that?"
He came forward into my cubicle, and I pushed my visitor chair out with my foot for him. "I like how you just said it. Wouldn't help her any, but it's accurate."
I laughed. "So, how long do you think it'll be before she contacts me again? I'm betting on some time today."
"You were pretty clear. I'm not sure she--"
My phone buzzed. I picked it up and checked the text message. "I should have bet you some serious money. It's her. I'm not sure what all these words mean, but the ones I know aren't complimentary."
"Geez, really? Can I see?"
I held out the phone. He took it, and his fingers brushed mine sending shivers through me. Had he done that on purpose?
He studied the phone then offered it back to me. "Charming."
I took the phone, letting my fingers brush his in the same way. Again with the shivers. "Yeah. I don't think I'm going to answer."
"Good call. She can't seriously expect you to help." He paused, then added, "Are you okay?"
Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5) Page 119
